


Kiss With a Fist

by themechanicsnightmare (ihaventsleptyetits4amoops)



Series: Kiss With a Fist [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Current Events, Domestic Rogues, Established Relationship, Nazis, i guess??, i should not have had to tag nazis and current events at the same time but here we are, i'm not tagging all the characters that's just Too Many, in which the author tries to re-imagine planets as countries, ish, many characters appearing in the background/being referenced, with hopefully some success and sincere apologies to both Jedha and Alderaan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:13:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihaventsleptyetits4amoops/pseuds/themechanicsnightmare
Summary: "Intelligence reports that they're planning a demonstration next Saturday," Leia said, "Suggestions?""Counter-protest?" Tycho said."Wait for him to start talking, then deck him?" Wedge said."Both?" Wes said.Welcome to the Galactic College. Please leave your fascism at the door, or Leia Organa's going to make you regret it.Or, in which everyone's favourite rebels are a college LGBT group on a valiant quest to punch Nazis in the face.





	1. The Yoghurt Thief

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this because I saw some bullshit on Twitter. It seems spite is what motivates me these days. Oh well.
> 
> Rated for pilots with foul mouths and also for punching Nazis later.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I,” Wes replied, carefully writing his name on the pot, “Am labelling my yoghurt so that yoghurt-thieves can’t steal it.” He glared at Hobbie.  
>  “I told you, it wasn’t me,” Hobbie insisted, “Don’t even like your manky yoghurt anyway.” _
> 
> In which Wes' yoghurt goes missing, Wedge goes on a date, and Hobbie goes back to bed. (Or, he wants to, anyway.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, no kicking Nazi ass this chapter. Domestic Rogues, though, so there's that?

“Wedge!” Wes yelled from the kitchen, “Wedge, I think Hobbie stole my yoghurt!”

Hobbie’s answering denials were just audible over the sounds of Tycho in the shower.

“I don’t know what you want me to do about it, Wes,” Wedge replied, appearing in the doorway. He was barefoot, dragging a hand through his hair in a failing attempt to tame his raging bedhead. “Have you seen my shoes?”

“Your shoes? Yeah, they’re in the fridge.”

“Why the fu –“ Wedge shook his head. “I don’t even want to know.”

Wes just smiled at him. Wedge resolved to kill him later, when he wasn’t running late.

 

Luke grinned when Wedge finally slid into a seat at “their” table in the back corner of Home One.

“Hey,” Wedge said, “Sorry I’m late, someone decided to put my shoes in the fridge and hide my keys.”

“Wes?”

“How ever did you guess that?” Wedge took a long drink of the coffee Luke, god bless him, had had waiting for him.

“I know him,” Luke replied, trying unsuccessfully to hide his amusement, “And that’s your “I live with children” face.”

“This is just my face.”

Luke hummed in agreement. “It’s a good face. I like it."

“I’m glad you approve,” Wedge said, smiling. He unwrapped a hand from his cup to intertwine his fingers with Luke’s. “I quite like your face too.”

Whatever Luke was going to say was interrupted by a voice from above them.

“Nine hells,” the voice said, “Leia was right, you guys are disgusting.”

“Oh, fuck off, Solo,” Wedge said, glaring up at the man, “You and Leia are just as bad and you know it.”

“Hey!” Han protested, “Me and Leia – “

“– Are enough to give people cavities when you’re not trying to kill each other,” Luke said, “Did you want something?”

There was a blush riding high on his cheeks and his disgruntled expression made him even more adorable than usual. Fuck, Wedge was screwed.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

Han raised his hands in surrender. “Just thought I’d say hi. You get back to your… whatever.”

When he was gone, Luke turned back to Wedge. “Where were we?”

Wedge leant across the table and kissed him. 

 

After Han’s unwelcome interruption, they were undisturbed. They sat at their table, perfectly content to watch people go by. At that time on a Saturday morning, the place was pretty quiet. Not empty, Home One was the only place on campus that served even halfway-decent coffee, it was _never_ empty, but quiet. Most people were probably still sleeping off the night before. Several others looked like that was what they’d rather be doing.

“I’m telling Tycho you said he was a child,” Wedge said.

Luke laughed. “It wasn’t him I was talking about and you know it.”

“True.”

Abruptly, Luke swore, startling several nearby tables.

“What?” Wedge asked, looking at him in concern.

“Just seen the time. If I’m late to another project meeting, Jyn’ll kill me.”

It was a valid concern. Jyn Erso’s temper was legendary among people who didn’t know her. Even more so among those who did.

“Well you’d best be off then,” Wedge said, “I do tend to prefer my boyfriends alive, after all.”

Luke smacked him none too gently on the shoulder but his smile was amused. “See you for dinner?”

“Come over before the Alliance meeting?” Wedge suggested. At Luke’s suspicious glance, he added, “Tycho’s cooking, I swear.”

“Well, if you swear,” Luke replied, kissing him on the cheek, “I’ll see you then.” He picked up his bag and dashed off. If he ran the whole way to the library, he’d probably still be on time.

Wedge finished his coffee and left.

 

He finally got home an hour later. Tycho was sprawled out on the sofa, the top of his head just visible over the arm as he flipped through the morning cartoons.

“Don’t judge me,” he said when he realised Wedge was watching him. “They’re entertaining.”

“I think Wes is rubbing off on you,” Wedge said, going into the kitchen to put the milk away.

Tycho’s head appeared over the back of the sofa to glare at him in mock offense. “You take that back right now,” he demanded.

Wedge laughed at him and he flopped back down with a huff.

“Where are the terrible two, anyway?”

“Wes went out not long after you. Something about yoghurt? And Hobbie’s –“ A snore from Hobbie’s room all but finished Tycho’s sentence for him. ” – Asleep.”

“Well then,” Wedge said, poking Tycho in the calf, “Shift your legs, you sofa hog.”

Obligingly, Tycho lifted his legs. Then promptly dropped them into Wedge’s lap when Wedge’d sat down. Wedge rolled his eyes and flicked him in the ankle, then rested his arms on Tycho’s shins.

“You kick me, you’re going on the floor,” he threatened, just like every other time.

Tycho smiled and turned his attention back to the cartoons.

 

Hobbie finally emerged from his room six episodes of Adventure Time later.

“It’s alive!” Tycho cheered.

Hobbie just grunted at him, stumbling zombie-like into the kitchen. There, he stopped to stare for several long seconds, blinking like he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was seeing.

“Maybe not,” Tycho said.

Wes stared back at Hobbie, uncapped sharpie in one hand, yoghurt pot in the other.

“What are you doing?” Hobbie finally managed to get out, words half slurred from sleep.

“I,” Wes replied, carefully writing his name on the pot, “Am labelling my yoghurt so that yoghurt-thieves can’t steal it.” He glared at Hobbie.

“I told you, it wasn’t me,” Hobbie insisted, “Don’t even like your manky yoghurt anyway.” He shuffled over to the coffee machine, poking it ineffectually and muttering about caffeine until Wes took pity on him and turned it on.

“Well if it wasn’t you, then who – “ Wes turned his suspicious glare on Wedge and Tycho.

“Don’t look at me,” Tycho said, “I’m with Hobbie on this one. Ew.”

Wedge just raised his eyebrows. After a few more moments of intense glaring, Wes went back to his labelling.

“Wait a minute,” Tycho whispered to Wedge, “If we didn’t eat it, who did?”

“Drunk Wes ate it,” Wedge replied, “And forgot, apparently.”

Tycho couldn’t hold in a snort. “Of course. Are you going to tell him?”

“Nah,” Wedge said after a moment’s thought. “I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually.”


	2. Both, Both is Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The door opened and all conversation stopped dead._   
>  _Wes cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, “Here comes the General!”_   
>  _Leia favoured him with a withering glare._
> 
> Welcome to the Alliance.

It wasn’t so long ago that the Alliance had met in what could charitably be called a closet. The irony of that had been magnificent, but trying to cram all twenty of its members into an actual shoebox would probably have been more comfortable. Back then, they’d been angry and terrified and entirely unwilling to admit to the latter. That hadn’t changed much, but the conference room they met in now was much nicer, and the group was big enough that Bodhi hadn’t ever actually spoken to half of these people.

A few familiar faces had recently arrived, though. Bodhi waved, returning Luke’s grin. Wedge waved too, then pointed at Jyn and Cassian, mouthing, “What’s up with them?”

Bodhi shrugged. Honestly, he had no idea what they were arguing about now. After the fourth change of topic and the fifty-third minute, he’d stopped listening and started rolling his eyes instead. It wasn’t anything important, he knew that much. Probably who left the dirty towels on the bathroom floor again.

They didn’t actually seem to be arguing properly any more anyway, just sort of hissing at each other and waving their arms around, each too stubborn to admit defeat.

For their part, Kay had kept up a sarcastic commentary the whole time, and was lucky Jyn was too absorbed in her “discussion” to hear them.

 

The door opened and all conversation stopped dead.

Wes cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, “Here comes the General!”

Leia favoured him with a withering glare. Wes smiled and waved at her. Hobbie picked himself up off the floor, looking disgruntled.

“Hey guys,” Leia said, taking a seat beside Han, “I hope everyone’s had a good summer.” She cast a significant look at her brother. “I know some of us definitely have.”

Plenty of laughter accompanied the comment. Luke blushed hard, burying his face in Wedge’s shoulder. Wedge wrapped an arm around him, glaring at Han who was smirking at them.

Leia ignored them all. “And hello to our new members, it’s good to see you. When classes start, Han will stop trying to get you all drunk, I promise.”

More laughter, especially from the older students. Someone in the back corner said, quietly but fervently, “Oh thank God.”

Bodhi sympathised. He’d witnessed the aftermath of several of Solo’s parties. The man had a Corellian’s appreciation for alcohol, and the tolerance to match. Jyn had tried to outdrink him once and it… well, it hadn’t ended well.

Leia was speaking again. “Now, to business. Intelligence has discovered that the Empire plans to hold a demonstration next Saturday.”

So that was what Cassian and Jyn had been doing for the last week. “Intelligence”, such as it was, consisted of precisely four and a half people, Cassian and Jyn included, who used their spare time to stalk members of the Empire on social media and, occasionally, in real life. Somehow, the nickname had stuck.

“Obviously,” Leia continued, “We can’t just let that stand. So, suggestions?”

There were several moments of almost-silence as people considered the question.

Tycho raised a hand and said, “Counter-protest?”

“Wait for whoever it is to start talking, then punch them?” Wedge suggested from beside him.

“Both,” Wes said, several people nodding in agreement. “Both is good.”

 

A few of the suggestions that followed were dismissed out of hand, some of which Bodhi sincerely hoped were made in jest. These included explosives (“Kell _, no._ "), poison (“ _Phanan._ ") and challenging their leader to a ritual duel to the death (“What. The actual fuck.”). Others, like a coordinated song and dance routine, were shelved for another time.

Eventually, it was decided that the counter-protest was their best option and the rest of the meeting was devoted to logistics.

“If you’re going to start a fight,” Leia said, glaring particularly hard at certain people, “Then please, for the love of God, consider the consequences.”

“Aw, come on, Princess,” Han said, “You know you want to punch them just as much as everybody else.”

“I don’t want anyone to get arrested.”

That was fair enough. It wasn’t like Professor Organa was around to get them out of criminal charges anymore. But Bodhi couldn’t help but notice she didn’t deny his assertion.

“So if you could all avoid getting caught, that’d be great.”

The arrangements now made, people began to break off into smaller groups. Some started conversations, lounging around on the hard plastic chairs, others left. There was a brief but violent argument in the corner about something to do with pirates, but Bodhi didn’t see who was involved.

Eventually, though, people began to trickle out in twos and threes until only a few were left.

  


“What are everyone’s plans for the evening, then?” Luke asked.

Han, Lando and Chewie professed their intention to go out and get absolutely smashed. Or rather, Han and Lando intended to get smashed and Chewie promised to stop them getting themselves killed.

“You’re welcome to join us,” Han offered.

Wedge declined. “We have a standing appointment to kick Number Three’s collective asses.”

“It’s been too long,” Tycho added, nodding seriously, “Horn’s getting cocky.”

“Do you mind if I come watch?” Luke asked.

“Do I ever mind when you’re around?” Wedge replied.

Hobbie muttered that they should “Just kiss already.”

After a moment’s consideration, the pair did just that. Wes made retching noises and pretended to vomit. Wedge asked Tycho to thump him.

“So they’re out,” Han said, “Anybody else? Ladies, gents,” he glanced at Kay and Winter, “Folks who defy the gender binary?”

“I’ve been drinking with you once, Solo,” Jyn said. She stretched, trying to get her arms onto Bodhi and Cassian’s shoulders despite the fact she was far too short to do so comfortably. “Never again. Besides, we have plans.”

Kay just stared at him.

“None of my plans for the evening involve seedy bars,” Leia told him, “But I promise not to make fun of you when you’re hungover in the morning.”

“Have I told you recently how much I love you?”

Leia reached up, and, when that didn’t prove enough to overcome their height difference, dragged him down to kiss him.

“You can always tell me again.”

Wes made more retching noises.

“Tycho,” Leia said, “Smack him for me.”

“With pleasure.”

Bodhi rolled his eyes at their antics and followed Cassian and Jyn out to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about updates: I just started my exams, which has killed me slightly. Hopefully I'll get chapter three done between now and when they're over. That's the plan, anyway. After that, I'll have more time and hopefully be a little faster.


	3. Protest Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Do you think they practice?” Wes asked._   
>  _“What,” Hobbie replied, “Looking like dicks? No, I think it comes naturally.”_   
> 
> 
> Wedge punches his first Nazi of the year. Unfortunately it is also his brother-in-law.

Saturday dawned bright and far too early for anyone but Tycho to enjoy it. Wedge stumbled from his room into the kitchen. Tycho was already there, leaning against the counter, coffee in hand. He spoke. Wedge’s only response was to groan.

“It’s okay,” Tycho said, patting him comfortingly on the shoulder, “I know there’s too much blood in your caffeine-stream for you to function.”

Wedge glared, taking the coffee that was handed to him and drinking half of it in one go.

“I asked if you wanted waffles.”

“Why did you need to ask?”

Tycho turned to get two dishcloths from under the sink. “You might want to go shower.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

“Well I wasn’t, but…”

Wedge’s balled up shirt smacked Tycho in the face as he straightened.

Tycho threw it back. “Put that in the laundry, you heathen.” He stuck the dishcloths under the cold tap.

“You know, one day they’ll get you for that,” Wedge said, nodding at the now wet cloths.

“Yeah, Hoth’ll melt first. Go shower.”

Before he turned the shower on, Wedge heard the indignant yelp from Wes’s room and smiled.

 

“Are we meeting the others?” Hobbie asked, yawning widely. He was still damp from his rude awakening. Beside him, Wes, in a similar state, was glaring daggers at Tycho, who looked far too pleased with himself.

“Yeah,” Wedge replied, “At half past.”

Hobbie and Wes both cursed and ran off to get dressed.

 

The four of them met up with the others at Luke’s and from there headed on to the park. It was early still, and most of the group had yet to arrive, but there were people milling around. Most called out greetings as they passed.

It was fairly warm, even for early September, and the sun shone brightly as the park filled. There was no shortage of slogan t-shirts, or of signs. Wedge hadn’t seen Sabine arrive, but the rainbows and starbirds were definitely her work. The less-than-polite Mando’a could have come from her or from Kryze.

There was no shortage of laughter, either. The air was filled with it. Everyone seemed in high spirits, despite being awake before noon on a Saturday. Some smaller groups had set up blankets on the grass, lounging around in the sun. Others had brought camping chairs, and Wedge thought he saw a boom box.

Someone had also brought face paints, and somehow Wes had gotten hold of them. Hobbie was trying to fend off his enthusiastic, if unskilled, attempts to paint him. It was a losing battle. Resistance was futile against Wes.

Luke, Tycho and Winter, all now sporting colourful faces, had given in with much better grace.

Wes had tackled Hobbie to the ground and was sitting on him when Leia appeared at Wedge’s elbow.

“Are we sure they aren’t a thing?”

“It’s Wes and Hobbie. I’ve given up questioning it.”

Hobbie, now looking like he’d been attacked by a sugar-high child, managed to shove Wes off and scramble to his feet just in time to see their opposition arrive.

The Empire marched in neat, precise lines, their uniforms pristine, perfectly shined boots hitting the pavement in perfect time. Wedge had to give it to them, they were pretentious twats, but they were _well trained_ pretentious twats. And neo-Nazis. Wouldn’t do to forget that part.

“Do you think they practice?” Wes asked.

“What,” Hobbie replied, “Looking like dicks? No, I think it comes naturally.”

Across the street, the Empire came to a stop. A pair broke from the formation to set up a sound system.

“And it looks like we’re going to get to hear them sound like dicks too,” Hobbie said, “How lovely.”

 

Unfortunately, Hobbie was correct. As soon as the sound system was set up, their leader picked up the microphone and began to speak. It was typical white supremacist nonsense, it always was, but that didn’t make it any easier to listen to.

There was something familiar about the voice. Wedge was still trying to figure out what it was when the voice disappeared.

The speaker was still going, but without the microphone he couldn’t hope to compete with the Saturday morning crowds. Behind him, people were exchanging confused glances. The pair who set up the sound system were poking at it.

Five minutes later, Cassian reappeared, bearing a latte and a smirk. Jyn immediately stole his latte.

Wedge raised his hand for a fist bump. “Nice work, Andor.”

They got fifteen minutes of blessed quiet before the Empire figured out what had happened.

After that, a group of science majors got hold of some loudhailers and started correcting the “scientific facts” the guy was spouting. When he moved on to religion, the loudhailers were passed to the theology majors. Eventually, they got tired of correcting him, and a group led by Kell and Face took to yelling “Prove it!” whenever he made a declarative statement.

After another half hour, Tycho and Winter went to get coffee for everyone and unplugged his mic again.

All in all, the morning was going rather well. There had been no violence as yet, no one had been arrested, and the Empire was getting increasingly frustrated with the heckling and passive aggressive sign waving. Wedge had borrowed Kay’s binoculars to watch Speaker Guy grinding his teeth as he continued preaching despite the interruptions.

Face and Phanan’s new chant of “We’ve got ice cream and you’re a dick!” lasted until, presumably, they ran out of ice cream.

That was when Han strolled over to where Wedge had been lazing on the grass with Luke, dropped a loudhailer on Wedge’s face, and started belting out an old Corellian bar song. He glared at Wedge until he got up and joined in. Iella kicked Corran in the shins until he joined them. The songs weren’t difficult, and before long they had a respectable number of people singing along.

Han looked directly at Speaker Guy and gave a very theatrical shrug, as if to say “What can you do?”

 

At noon, Jyn went to get food and unplugged the Imperial microphone. Both groups decided to break for lunch. They glared at each other the entire time.

When Speaker Guy picked up his microphone, Han readied his loudhailer. A brief standoff ensued, but the Imperial mouthpiece continued spewing his garbage soon enough. In retaliation, the group in the park carried on singing.

“We’ve got a problem,” Han said, three songs later. “I’m out of songs.”

“Hand me the loudhailer, Solo,” Sabine Wren replied. She turned to yell over her shoulder. “Kryze! Get over here and help me.”

They were half way through a rousing rendition of Dha Werda Verda when the news crew arrived.

 

“Really?” Hobbie said, “We’ve put up with this guy all day, and now people who weren’t even here have to listen to his bullshit too?”

The news crew were talking to Speaker Guy. Cassian, despite being less than 100 feet away, was watching it on his phone. Wedge looked over his shoulder to find that they’d helpfully provided Speaker Guy’s name.

It was Soontir Fel. He was a grad student. He was also Wedge’s brother-in-law. Well, that would explain why his voice was familiar. Wedge really should have paid more attention to who his sister had married.

“Wait, did he just – he just said – “ Wedge sighed. “I can’t,” he said, “I can’t deal with this.” He handed his coffee to Tycho. “Don’t let Luke touch that.”

“What are you going to do?”

Wedge only smiled.

“Leia’s going to murder you.”

“She has to catch me first.”

He pulled his hood up to hide his face and took off, sprinting out of the park and across the road. A solid punch to the face took Fel by surprise. He fell to the ground. Wedge kept running, ducking into a store briefly, then hid himself in the weekend crowd and walked round the block.

He rejoined the group in the park, plucking his coffee out of Tycho’s hand.

“Feel better?” the blond asked.

“It’s probably a good thing I don’t speak to Syal that often. I think this is the kind of thing that makes family dinners awkward.”

"Yeah, no kidding."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit guys I'm so sorry it's been so long since I updated. Pro tip: if someone tells you to take 4 a levels just say no. It kills you, trust me on that. This chapter fought me the whole time but it's here now. I hope it was worth the wait


End file.
